I keep the surface intact not because it’s uncracked but because it’s been cut carefully so the seam won’t show Not because it would leak but because someone is watching and remembers only the place where the light hits wrong One mistake weighs more than everything that holds it up I don’t fear the truth I fear its permanence the moment I’m locked into a single image I don’t ask for mercy or explanation only that I’m not measured by one shadow I learned early to arrange my words before they’re asked to smooth the edges no one has even touched I know who I am when no one is around but spoken out loud it turns into evidence And evidence doesn’t forget it stays even when I move forward I don’t fear the truth I fear its permanence the moment I’m locked into a single image I don’t ask for mercy or explanation only that I’m not measured by one shadow What if wholeness isn’t flawlessness but the fact that a fracture doesn’t cancel everything else What if an image is allowed to move and what broke was never the whole structure I don’t run from myself only from the mirror that stays behind when I’ve already changed I don’t fear the truth I fear its misuse that I’m reduced to a single moment If I ever lower my guard it isn’t weakness it’s hope that someone can see the whole Not everything is visible in a single look and nothing whole has ever been smooth
